


Huevos y Jamón Verde

by Nny



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/pseuds/Nny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"No mi quiero ellos, gentlemen."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Huevos y Jamón Verde

"Have you ever seen _Iodine_ , gentlemen?" The Patrician's voice was pleasant enough, and really shouldn't have prompted quite such nervous looks between the Klatchian ambassador and his attaché. Perhaps it was Vimes, sitting in the corner and rather ostentatiously polishing his sword- the man really had no sense of subtlety. Vetinari smiled, thinly, and their nervousness appeared to increase tenfold.

"But of course." The man's voice wasn't shaking. With a bit more practice, he'd learn to conceal the effort that had cost him, as well.

"Then, naturally, you must be familiar with the climax. When the villain is attempting to convince the innocent Iodine to consume the poison and cause her own death, having cunningly hidden the canker within the rose, as it were." He shuffled the papers they'd handed him and they watched his hands, hypnotised. " _No mi quiero huevos y jamón verde -_ " he saw Vimes' think for a moment, then the man's mouth dropped open. He steadfastly ignored it. " _No mi quiero ellos, soySam._ " And now the man was laughing silently, shoulders shaking helplessly. Vetinari steadfastly kept his gaze on the two men in front of him.

"What do you-"

"The terms you have proposed are unacceptable. Sugar coating does not disguise anything." He raised one eyebrow. "No mi quiero ellos, gentlemen."

He managed to wait until the two of them had been ushered out before he turned his cool gaze on Vimes, who seemed to have managed to control himself.

"Thank you, your grace. Your contribution was incalculable. However, I'm sure that discussions can continue _without_ your presence, from now on."

Vimes didn't glare, which was something of a character departure. "So that's opera, is it?"

"So it would seem."

"Singing about food?"

"When it's not about drinking-"

"Which you've never understood."

"-which, I will admit, I have never seen the appeal in, about death-"

"Which you have."

He didn't answer, just sent a look Vimes' way that made the man stand to attention, his eyes snapping up and to the right, staring somewhere above his head. He vaguely wondered what his expression had shown.

"Or about sex, of course."

It was quite amusing watching the struggle between Vimes' need to have the last word and his sense of self preservation. He had considerable difficulty preventing himself from laughing.


End file.
